15 Easy Steps?
by Manda Mcdowall
Summary: Ginny's musings on a teenage magazine. MiniFic biproducts of an overactive teenage girl's imagination [not my own] under revamp
1. Prologue

**A/N - Earlier chapters have been edited and re-written due to authors earlier incompetence but you don't have to re-read them as it's not necessary.**

**I present... 15 Easy Steps**

* * *

Ginny Weasley sighed to herself as she slammed around her kitchen. Her frustration was evident as she marched around militant like looking for something sharp; _nobody messes with a Weasley temper. _

Ramming her hand into a draw in search of a knife Ginny huffed loudly; ever since Harry had got to the burrow – all moody and broody after what had happened to Sirius – things had taken a turn for the worse. The golden trio, as many at school had dubbed them, had taken to excluding her from any kind of talk to do with the war, something that didn't leave anyone's mind nowadays.

Finally finding herself clutching the knife she grabbed two slices of bread from the breadbin and spread them liberally with mayonnaise and jammed in cheese for good measure.

Not bothering to get a plate or even cut her sandwich in half she moved towards the living room; flopping herself huffily onto one of the sofas. Looking reproachfully at her sandwich she didn't feel remotely hungry. But regardless she began to eat, fanning herself with a nearby magazine; sighing once again as she heard the muffled voices from upstairs.

* * *

"Sorry Ginny, but you're just to young."

"Ron," she'd began unable to contain half of her anger, "I'm only a year younger than you are _and_ it's not like I've never faced Him before or are you forgetting the basilisk? Or the fact that I fought with you at the ministry?"

"That's not the point Ginny." He'd said, his patronising tone ringing in her ears, "And anyway you didn't exactly come out of either of those things well, did you?

"Where as you just ended up being attacked by a brain."

He ignored her.

"Ginny you're going downstairs while we talk and that's final."

"Fine just one thing…"

"What?"

"Voldemort. "

"Ginny!" he shot back testily, "whatchu do that for?"

"To show _you_ - Mr I jump twenty feet at the sound of a name, that I _unlike_ you can say Voldemort."

And then he'd slammed the door in her face.

* * *

Ginny seemed to emit electricity as she remembered her previous conversation with her brother. She still couldn't believe him.

"Keep your trio." She said to herself scornfully.

She half screamed half huffed and slapped the magazine onto the table face up. She stared scornfully down at it. The Teenage witch on the front was silently hurling abuse at her but she took no notice. A heading had caught her attention – _15 easy steps?_ She continued to stare before grabbing the magazine and flicking through it almost frantically. When she found the page she was looking for she scanned the article quickly before collapsing into laughter. She reread the article still giggling struggling for composure she clasped a hand over her mouth stifling the noise. What had she expected? Some kind of enlightenment? This was Teen Witch Weekly for crying out load! Had she expected some kind of instruction on how to get Harry to fall to his knees and propos… _no._ She wasn't going to go _there. _She was over that.

Ginny's eyes rested on the magazine once more.

_**The Man You Crave and how to get him.**_

_**-15 Easy Steps**_

_**-3 Easy Categories**_

_**Have you found the man of your dreams? Is the only problem that he doesn't realise you like him or maybe he doesn't like you in that way, or perhaps he's just thick? Well what ever the problem we've got the solution. Just follow the steps below and he will soon be yours. (even if he's Harry Potter.) **_

_**Categories –**_

Ginny snorted. 'This _is _enlightening' She thought 'I mean the crap they put in here beauty tips are one thing but this? Why put something so derogative in here when what girls my age need right now is information on current events! Like Voldemort! We need it in plain English.' She began to read on reading the categories aloud –

"If_ he's strong and silent?_ Oh please!_ If he hasn't yet realised how wonderful you truly are? _You've got to be kidding me!_ If he's thicker than a door? _…Hermione could use this."

She went to the first category.

_**If He's Strong and silent?**_

_**Step 1: Be more feminine. **_


	2. Step 1

**_If he's strong and silent?_ **

**_Step 1: Be more feminine_ **

**_Research has shown that men haven't evolved much in their way of thinking since the 19th century so we advice the best way of getting your man as to bring back some of the old customs, Let him hold the door open for you, agree with everything he says, wear clothes that only a girl could. (This means short skirts! Go with the muggle styles!)_ **

_Oh yes I see how that would work… it would go just like this…_

_xXxXxXxXx_

My ankle gave way for the fifth time that morning. The strap around it held tight but only because it was the only way I could get my rather high heels to stay on. I winced and Harry shot me a weird look over his shoulder. _Why was I here? _I trudged up the steep heel wobbling slightly with each step. He was getting annoyed with me I could tell. We'd been walking for about an hour and he'd said three things to me; 'It won't be a long walk I only want to stretch my legs', 'not much longer.' And 'I could have sworn we've turned this way before.' So we were lost, well Harry was anyway, I knew exactly where I was. I had grown up playing hide and seek with my brothers in this wood. But I was in a wood, alone, with Harry Potter who now turned to look over his shoulder at me again and open his mouth, as if to say something but then stopped himself and turned around again. Well I was contemplating whether to ask him what he'd wanted to say, so I _didn't_ hear him say 'Watch out for that low branch." So I walked straight into it and it clogged my vision making me panic and amble forwards grabbed onto the nearest thing in front of me, (Which just happened to be Harry) making us both fall forwards; I landed face down in mud and Harry fell on top of me. Feeling him roll off me I heard a voice vibrate in my ear.

"Err… Gin?" _be feminine Ginny, _I told myself over.

"Yes Harry?" I was attempting to purr but it was difficult because I was still facing the ground so I repositioned myself, grabbing my skirt as it had ridden up as I sat up facing Harry.

"Your… I mean…"

"What's the matter Harry?"

"Well your… heel…"

"Mmm…" I was still trying (and failing) to pull my skirt down.

"Your shoes…" _perfect opportunity for me to be feminine._

"Yes I know they're lovely," _not _"I got them in muggle London."

"Yeah well… It's just…"

I went to get up, as I wasn't at all amused with my current position in front of Harry, I placed one foot gingerly down; my ankle wobbling under my own weight. Holding the back of my skirt down left me in a kind of half squat. Still trying to gain enough composure to get up I realised that this wasn't the most ladylike position therefore I panic making to get up quickly I recklessly slammed my other foot on the rocky path.

This however only caused me to fall straight back down again. _Because_, you might be interested to know, _the heel had fallen of my shoe. _

G_reat. Fantastic. I just love being a girl. _Anger built up inside me and everything seemed three hundred times worse when I heard Harry laughing from behind me. I raised my head from the dirt (once again) and looked up. There was Harry he held my pink heel between his thumb and forefinger and was grinning at me sheepishly. I saw red.

"Harry James Potter!" I start angrily; yanking my skirt down forcefully, "Why on the earth wouldn't you tell me my heel had fallen off? Did you think it would be funny to see me fall down again? Or did you just want a chance to see up my skirt." I brush myself down and bend down to take those horrid shoes off my swollen feet, turning away from Harry's no longer smiling face, I sighed. I looked a mess. The hair I'd been up since five straightening was tangled and frizzed. My legs, which I'd successfully self-tanned, (after many failed attempts) where bruised and scraped and my skirt had ridden up again!

Not looking back I began to walk back towards the burrow and hearing Harry follow in near silence I began to run though it didn't take me long to find the little path that lead back to the burrow I must of looked a site since I couldn't run properly in my current outfit, having to hold my skirt down at the back since Harry was still behind me.

I slowed down only when I reached the gate that separated the Burrow's garden and the paddock. Hearing him behind me still I didn't bother to turn around to receive his apology (Which was bound to come) And when it didn't, I was surprised to instead hear Harry's faint chuckle, spinning round, Harry nearly walked straight into me. I was so shocked I (you guessed it) fell back again. He began to laugh again.

"_What_!" I snapped dangerously, "Are you laughing at?" and then it happened again that little voice came back _that's not very ladylike Ginny. _It brought back my sanity, well to an extent… It stopped me killing him anyway. "I mean… wont you help me up?" I said in my softest voice (it made me want to gag).

Harry looked slightly taken aback by my sudden change of mood but shrugged offered me a hand. We began to walk back together in silence, me still occasionally pulling down my skirt. It wasn't till we where nearly in the burrow did he speak again.

"Honestly Gin…"

"oh no," I said in a sickening imitation of my aunt Floe, call me Ginevra it sounds so much more…" _stupid_. I waved my hand dramatically looking like a complete fool and showing of my frilly knickers once again.

"Yeah Ginevra…" He gave me a funny look. "I don't see why you agreed to go on this walk with me in that… outfit" he looked like he wanted to say more but I beat him to it.

"What's wrong with my outfit?" I asked, genuine hurt in my voice.

Harry was a little way in front of me and opened the back door into the kitchen; I was expecting him to hold it open for me… big mistake.

I stumbled backwards (didn't fall down, thank goodness) my hand flew to my nose, rubbing it. Harry opened the door again looking around for me. He noticed my pained expression and came back outside.

"What happened to you?"

"Nothing what where you saying?"

"What I was saying was that your outfits fine for someone like Lavender…" I raised a newly plucked eyebrow at him "What I'm trying to say is that your outfits just… not you."

_

* * *

_

_Err… no. Definitely not! I don't think that one would win Harry's affection. Anyway I have weak ankles. But of course there's always…_

**_Step 2:- Be the Damsel_ **


	3. Step 2

**_Step 2 - Be the Damsel_**

**_The schematics for the damsel in distress story are as follow 'damsel' (i.e. you) will face some kind of peril all hope will be lost. Then the 'hero' (i.e. him) will fight to save her. He will succeed she will look into his eyes and they will both fall in love instantly. And then have lots of babies and live happily ever after. So if that's how it goes why should it be any different for you?_**

_Hmmm... seeing the way he dropped the horseradish at dinner, I'd much rather not but..._

* * *

I zoomed along the paddock behind Harry. Fred, George, Ron and Hermione, were way behind me. I had decided on falling off my broom and Harry catching me as my little stunt to win him over; though I had to just hope Harry didn't drop me. What I have to do is find a moment when everyone's attention is on me… Perhaps when I'm scoring a goal? Harry would have to be the closest one to me. Which wouldn't be hard all I have to do is fly above him. But it all seemed so reliant on Harry though. And how was I going to pull of convincingly falling off my broom, contrary to belief; they're built pretty safe.

We'd reached the little part among the trees where we usually play and I decided to put it off for a while, just get a few goals in first. The teams were as follows, because Hermione likes to keep 'both feet firmly on the ground,' I was on Fred's team and Harry was on George's and we were _all_ trying to score against Ron. Well Fred and I, being as good as we are, had forty points on them and we'd only been playing for quarter of an hour.

_'Now?' _ I thought, _I could do it now, Fred has the quaffle he might pass it to me… no_. He's scored again. Harry doesn't seem very happy; neither in fact does Ron. Ron made his frustration known very shortly afterwards, unluckily for him I was feeling tetchy.

"This is stupid," he half whined, half shouted as Harry scored against him. "how am I supposed to win?"

"What? You don't win you're the keeper."

"Well if I don't win what's the point of playing." He said, landing on the ground next to Hermione. We followed.

"The point is Ron…" Hermione had joined the conversation and Ron was very keen to see her thoughts on the subject. But I cut across her.

"The _point_ is that if you don't play you get this quaffle rammed up your…"

"Got it." Said Ron paling dramatically. I noticed everyone else staring at me as well, the twins looking proud, Hermione reproachful, and Harry looked… surprised. I sniffed it off and said:

"Are we going to play or what?" The more time we wasted the less time I had to fall off my broom. We resumed play; though I noticed Ron was a lot less confident so scoring was a lot easier. I grabbed the quaffle and zoomed upwards.

_Now or never._

Harry was just below me and everyone else was at the over end of the pitch. He _had_ to catch me. They were all looking at me expectantly as I zoomed even higher, higher even then Ron; this had been my plan of course to make them all think that I was doing a quidditch move. Thoughts crossed my mind as I continued to go further and further upwards. I swivelled around, positioned myself, and held the quaffle in one hand. I swooped down 'accidentally' dropping the quaffle. trying to fall forwards I hurtled towards the ground at a ridiculous speed but found that my body wouldn't willingly slide off. So instead I was forced to swivel and swing my leg over. My hands still holding onto the broom I didn't even struggle to hold on; I just dropped.

As I fell, the wind rushing in my eyes, I had one glimpse of Harry's gob smacked face, and knew all hope was lost. He wasn't going to catch me I was going to hit the ground and end up looking like Ron's old pet that George (or was it Fred?) used as a bludger. I saw the green of the ground and prepared myself for impact.

_OW! Next time you immobilise me Fred try to cushion my neck! _

"Ginny? Are you okay?" Hermione ran over to me, as the others flew. I looked at all their upturned faces (I was still in the position I had fallen into) trying to make out there expressions.

"Err… Fred could you please turn me the right side up?" Everyone was looking at me funnily.

"I will once you tell me why you hurled yourself from your broom." _What?_

"What?" I asked in an attempt to be surprised by this remark.

"You just jumped off your broom from about twenty foot in the air." Adds George.

"I did not!" I was finding it hard to stay composed as the blood was now rushing to my brain.

"You hoisted your leg over Ginny." _Oh they'd seen that… deny! Deny! Deny!_

"No I didn't!" I said defensively.

"Ginny we all saw you do it…" _Shut it Ron!_

"You looked like a sky diver minus the parachute." Harry remarked everyone (including myself) except from Hermione was looking at him like he was crazy.

"Err… Harry what's a sky diver?" asked Ron

"Huh? Oh yeah… of course! Sky diver's are muggles who jump from aeroplanes." Ron continued to look confused. Harry sighed.

"Those big white things in the sky." Ron's face lit up.

"Oh right… They do that voluntarily?"

"Yeah some people think there crazy but they say they do it for the buzz." _Getting a bit off subject here._

"That's crazy!" remarked the twins.

"Err… guys don't you think we should get back too the current issue." _Die Hermione die!_

"Oh right." Says Harry who looks kind of bemused. "Err… what were we talking about?"

_Oh that's it! _I had to say something it was oh so clear that I had to say something… but maybe not this.

"Me Harry me! We where talking about how I fell off my broom hoping that you would catch me and fall in love with me. But no! The boy who can save himself from Voldermort four times can't catch me! So next time I decide to fall off my broom it won't be around you, butterfingers!" I finished my rant breathing heavily. I continued to stare furiously at the gob smacked faces in front of me. Fred was so surprised he dropped his wand therefore breaking the spell that held me in place therefore letting gravity have its way, I crashed into the earth head first.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxxox

_Given a choice of ending I'd have to say I'd rather I'd died. I think I'll take my chances with fluffy thank you. Next step…_

**_Step 3: - Cook him breakfast/Lunch/Dinner._**

**

* * *

**

**So… you like?**


	4. Steps 3 & 4

**Disclaimer: If I had three wishes I would wish for… a new laptop, (one I didn't have to share with my mother) an interesting life, and the rights to Harry Potter but as I do not have three wishes I must settle for being a laptop less bored teenager with an unhealthy obsession with Harry Potter.**

* * *

**_Step 3:- cook him breakfast/lunch/dinner. _**

**__**

**_What is the way to a mans heart? We're not sure of the direct route but what we do know is that there's a detour threw the kitchen. Men love a domestic goddess so hit the kitchen, cook something fancy, but don't use your wand because that won't impress. _**

**__**

* * *

**__**

_Purr-lease! We aren't talking about my brothers here. A soufflé won't make Harry ask me out. In fact it would probably be quite the opposite… _

* * *

Eggs… are frying. Check. Bacon… is sizzling. Check. Sausages… are grilling. Check. Freshly squeezed orange juice is… freshly squeezed. Check. And beans… are boiling.

Boiling? Boiling! Beans aren't supposed to boil! Rushing over I begin to stir the beans stiffly. Hoping beans are supposed to have a thick crusty sauce. Sighing I wish more than ever I hadn't decided to do this. I wish I had my mummy. _Oh that's so grown up wanting your mummy. _I scowl at myself; still stirring the beans like cement in a cement mixer. Though it would be good to have her to help with the beans. Ask in desperation and you will receive. My mum enters the room, bleary eyed. I can say honestly that I have never seen my mum remotely tired. Maybe that is why I'm standing here gawping at her.

"Ginny, what are you doing?" It was an accusation more than a question.

"I'm cooking breakfast." I say gesturing vaguely to the charred beans in my hand.

"Are you sure?" her eyes travel over the mass of pans and plates behind me and the bowl of batter (I _had _been cooking pancakes) spread over her normally neat scrubbed floor.

"Yes! I just ran into some… difficulty with the err… beans."

"Oh there fine, just chuck some water on them." She takes out her wand and magic's the batter away. Then she goes off to inspect the rest of the damage. Water… how much? I look down at the solid clump of beans in my hands. One cup or two? Hmm, I guess you can never have too much water. I successively fill two cups of water and drown the beans.

"The eggs are done Ginny."

"Okay mum," I walk over to her and take them off the heat.

"You should probably keep them on a shelf in the oven to keep them warm, low heat though." I nod, noting how quickly my mum's idea of helping turns into plain patronization.

"Well Ginny I think you've got it all under control. So I'm going back upstairs to get dressed. I suppose they'll be down soon anyway." By "they" she meant my three youngest brothers, Harry and Hermione. But I was only worried about Harry. My mum went to leave, but turned back at the last minuet.

"Oh and dear, don't get me wrong if I'm not rooting for Harry to fall in love with you over breakfast, it's just I could get used to not having to cook in the mornings." I gawp at her.

"What… no… what are you… how did you know?" I say slightly defeat. She gave me a pitying smile and left.

I stare at the door. Am I really that obvious?

_Do you really want an answer? _I hate subconsciouses.

The smell of bacon hits my nose. Bacon… Bacon? Damn my short attention span! Was I hungry? Breakfast! Oh yeah the breakfast I was cooking to make Harry fall in love with me. Turning the knob half-heartedly and poring the fat into a cup **(I'll explain later)** I sigh over Harry's gorgeous green eyes. I've been lost in those eyes so many times I've lost count. In fact I'm not even sure when my crush ended and my love began… WAIT I'M NOT IN LOVE WITH HARRY! I'll go back to my cooking.

As I look furiously around the kitchen I ponder whether there's enough for everyone. Let's see… eggs, beans, sausages, freshly squeezed orange, bacon, and… _pancakes. _I look to the ceiling and sure enough there just above my mothers scrubbed table there is a pancake, half pealing off already. I turn my back on it, remembering with a grimace the events that had taken place about ten minuets ago.

* * *

Okay so there browning nicely. I'll just flip it and we should be okay. I could flip it with the spatula but that would make it look less impressive. My mum always makes these golden brown pancakes so broken pancakes definitely wouldn't impress Harry.

So I readied myself. Took a good stance and flipped_. I almost closed my eyes._ Awaiting the pancakes return to earth I was confused by it's absence. Putting the pan on the side I peared to the ceiling and the floor but to no avail. And then I looked back in the pan. There it was, flipped over and sticky. I picked it up cursing myself for being so stupid. It only needed a bit more oomph that was all.

One, two, three I flipped again using all my force I watched the pancake do a double flip superbly in the air. As it came down I positioned myself below it…

Splat! It was like having a bowl of custard over my head. I can tell you that after just last week having Fred and George test their custard grenade on me. It was blinding, spread over my eyes and hair. I pealed it off feeling remotely like I've been spending my time in a slapstick comedy. I put another pancake on the stove; sighing. When that's ready I poke around the edges loosening it up.

I learn from my mistakes.

So again I go to flip using all my strength sending myself backwards and knocking over the batter. This time it comes clean out of the pan and flies across the room and hits the ceiling with yet another splat.

.,.,.,. .,.,.,. .,.,.,. .,.,.,.. .,.,., ,.,.,. .,.,.,. .,.,..,. .,.,. .,.,.,

I looked up at the ceiling for the millionth time that morning, the pancake looked down at me. I sighed nothing would make that budge. Thinking I deserved a glass of orange juice after such an ordeal I brought the glass to my lips inhaling half the glass. It taste sweet against my lips, raising the glass intending to down the rest of it I instead smell something fowl. It smells horrible… like toast, but I didn't put any toast in, did I?

My eyes drift over to the beans that are currently floating in water. Oh yeah, the toast was to go with the beans. Of course. I curse myself over and over again. I look over at the grill. A black cloud of smoke greets me. I sigh in a defeated kind of way.

Disposing of the burnt toast I put some more in, this time setting the egg timer. I open the window and slump against the counter; is a guy really worth all of this? Is Harry? I ponder it all, whilst drinking some more of my orange juice. I look to the cooker, blinking.

It's beset with Fire. The pan I had the bacon in is on FIRE! Oh sweet Merlin what am I going to do? Chip pan fire… Chip pan fire? Wet flannel! I run to the cupboards. Flannel. Flannel. Flannel. My hand brushes fabric. Flannel! I rush to the sink and drown the flannel in water. Running to the flames and double take at the heat. Inching forwards I stretch out my arms and spread the sodden flannel instantly the flames and most of the heat vanishes. It seems instead of turning the knob to _off _I'd turned it to _full power._ I blink again as gradually I peal back the flannel the lack of oxygen having killed the fire but the fire in turn leaving tiny wafers of burnt bacon. I grimace; but who really likes bacon anyway I much prefer sausa… SAUSAGES! I FORGOT THE SAUSAGES! I bend down to the grill and wipe my sweaty brow with relief. The sausages where a little burnt but other than that they where fine. I put them all on a plate. At least this was all almost over with. I consider everything that's happened this morning: the pancakes, the beans, the bacon, the sausages, and the toast, what else can go wrong?

While I had been pondering this I had reached for my old glass of orange. I brought it to my lips expecting tangy orange juice instead I retch when half congealed bacon fat hits my lips instead.

I run to the sink scraping at my tongue still gagging. I stay there for a good five minutes still gurgling water. I turn around and come face to face with… Harry.

"Err sorry I didn't… mean to… heard noises… woke me… sorry." He was evidentially trying not to look too repulsed at the fat I'd dribbled down my front. I pat at it with a dishcloth. His eyes go back to mine.

"It's okay Harry, I was making breakfast, that's all."

"Oh." His eyes travel over the charred remains of the bacon behind me.

"I was just about to dish it up do you want some?" _Now _he looks repulsed.

"Err sure that sounds… Yummy but don't you think the rest of your family should enjoy it as well."

_'No!' _I think '_I want you all to myself!' _

"Err sure!" I say instead, "I err… forgot; RON, MIONE, FRED, GEORGE, MUM, DAD, BREAKFAST!" I looked over to Harry who was left hunched over with his hands over his ears after my little round up; maybe I was a little too loud.

"Sorry." Can I do nothing right? I was sparred any further embarrassment by the arrival of my brothers. In they came, bleary eyed all three of them, followed by my parents and Hermione. My mother was smiling knowingly at me and Hermione was talking to my dad about the importance of magical rights. My brothers where sniffing the air looking for breakfast.

"Where … breakfast… hungy… me." Ron yawned as the twins nodded in agreement.

"I think what Ron means Ginny is, is breakfast ready yet?" Hermione said giving Ron a filthy look.

"Nearly, just sit down." Hermione sat herself down prim and proper as if showing my brother up, my parents set themselves down as well, my dad beaming at me proudly. Then of course Ron fell into his seat next to Hermione followed by the to twits… I mean twins who guide themselves blindly to their seats across from Hermione and Ron then fall face forwards into the table and begin to snore. Finally Harry sits down next to Hermione smiling at me I smile back because his seat is conveniently placed next to mine.

"Let me just dish breakfast up for you it will only take a minute." I send Harry another sexy smile and turn my back on them all. As I drain the beans I listen to them chat:

"Mum where's breakfast." Either Fred or George has woken up then.

"Ginny's making it today." Mum says rather irritated.

"But you always make breakfast." One of them whines.

"Not today dear."

"But Ginny can't -"

"Can't what Ron!" I cut across him.

"Can't … carry all those plates! I'll help you!" even I have to admit that was a quick save. I slam a plate in front of him.

"No, no, it's fine I'll do it myself." Ron's eyes remain on his plate. I return to giving everyone his or her plates. I sit down and look to my family expectantly. They all look incredibly uncomfortable. Surely it doesn't look _that_ bad.

"Well?" I say. I get guilty looks in return. "Okay… I understand… you don't have to eat it." A single tear running down my face.

"No! Ginny we'll eat it!" says Hermione wrestling Ron back into his seat.

"Great!" I say happily, "try some of the bacon; you like it burnt, don't you?"

"Bacon?" I point out the thin sliver of burnt bacon on her plate. "Oh yes, I didn't see it." She tries to insert her fork but fails so she lifts it with her fingers. I give her a look and she swallows it whole. She's still smiling though but her eyes have begun to water and she's going red in the cheeks.

"'Mione?" Ron asks gently, touching her arm. She goes even redder and then chokes. She disappears behind a napkin and coughs her bacon up.

"Ah come on Hermione." Fred says. "There's-"

"No-"

"Bacon-"

"Like-"

"Burnt-"

"Bacon!" The twins finish their speech by inhaling their own bits of bacon. Have I ever mentioned how much I loved my brothers?

**_Crack! _**

"Ah!" they scream in unison. "Oar 'acon 'urt our 'eef!" with that they run from the room clutching the side of their jaws. Maybe I don't love them _quite_ so much. I look around the table everyone now has almost identical fake smiles on, except Hermione who is drinking glass after glass of water.

"Maybe we'll leave the bacon but I'm sure the rest is fine." My mum says uncomfortably. "Ron why don't you try some eggs."

"But-"

"Try some eggs Ron!" my mum growls.

"Okay." He says defeat.

"Good boy." She smiles. Ron lifts his fork; it seems to take an age for the bit of egg to reach his mouth. He closes it almost unwillingly there is a pause while we watch him play with the egg on his tongue and then… Ron sticks out his tongue and the egg rolls off not even chewed.

"Ronald Weasley!" Mum says furious in an instant, "there was nothing wrong with that egg; I personally checked them this morning! We didn't bring you up to-"

"Mum!" Ron shouted over her, "It would have been fine except for the egg being freezing cold!" My mum's mouth is still open but the colour in her cheeks is slowly draining away, she takes her seat once again and avoids my eye. Ron looks at me triumphantly. His hand brushes a glass of –

"Water! I need a glass of water!" With that he gets up and runs full speed out of the room past the sink. Hermione seems to be fighting an inner battle with her conscience and her delicate stomach.

"Yes! I… also… need… Water!" Her stomach evidently won. I watch her run from the room, defeat. But as the door slams and the room is shook I hear something above me, like Velcro coming unstuck…

**_Splat! _**

The pancake that had been stuck to the ceiling had come dislodged and my seat had just happened to be below it.

Xoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

I returned to the table with a now clean face. Of course, the plates where still almost completely full and Harry and my parents where still the only one's left at the table. My dad was talking quietly to my mother. I announce my presence by flopping myself back on my seat. Harry was avoiding my eye probably because after the pancake I had run from the room screaming.

"Darling," my dad started "these sausages look perfect." He smiled at me encouragingly and tried to puncher his sausage. He forced his fork in and cut it in half. He didn't eat it though.

"Ginny dear," my mum started slowly, "did you _defrost_ the sausages before you cooked them?"

"No, why?" She pushed her plate away from herself.

"Never mind." She says, forcing a smile, "Oh and Ginny, did you _stir _the beans when you added the water?"

"No." I sigh.

"And… did you _heat_ the eggs like I told you to?" I don't even bother to answer.

"Where did those kids go? I fancy some water as well!" my dad jumps up and drags my mother from the room. I bang my head on the table.

"It's okay Harry you can leave." I say without looking up.

"No Gin it's fine I'll eat it." He called me Gin! But he's only trying to make me feel better. _But why; _Because he's Harry-ridiculously-chivalrous-Potter.

"You'd eat that for me?" I say, batting my eyelashes.

"Err I guess." He seems to be regretting this already, I hand him a fork, half expecting him to turn it down, but he takes it.

I watch him shovel the plate into his mouth. I then of course also watch him turn green and then white.

"Mm that was…" he begins, after finishing with delight, though he never finishes his sentence because just then he heaves and runs from the room and into the toilet clutching his stomach and mouth. I can hear him retching from here.

And there it ends with me being serenaded by Harry's retches, and a pile of washing up.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

_See it wouldn't go well. I was actually being nice to myself; in real life I'm the only person I know who can burn water. So unless turning Harry's stomach at the sight of me is part of the step I don't think that one would work. _

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

**_Step 4:- Dress down. _**

**__**

**_If being more feminine didn't work maybe you should become lower maintenance. Wear your joggers outside for a change. Guys love girls who don't hide behind make-up. So ditch the skirts and high heels and grab your jeans and trainers! _**

**__**

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

_Dress down! I'll have you know I am of the lowest maintenance Why if I dressed down anymore I'd look like Mundungus! _

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoooxxoxooxooxooxox****

****

**_Step 5:- Hint. _**

**__**

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox 


	5. Step 5

**Disclaimer: Do I own Harry Potter? No. But if I did it would consist of seven pop up books and would never have been published. **

**_Step 5: - Hint. _**

**_

* * *

_**

**_Subtlety is key! Sometimes all a guy needs is a push in the right direction, especially the silent type. And sometimes they need a real good shove! So use the subtle hints in some cases and more obvious hints in the extreme._**

**_

* * *

_**

_Subtlety was never my best aspect. I'd probably crash and burn…_

* * *

I skipped down a familiar lane; past trees that I'd watched grow over the course of my lifetime. I smiled to myself as the wind hit my face. I enjoyed this, all of it, being on my own in the woods not anyone there to badger and mother me, no one to tease me, no one, I was completely free. It was bliss. I didn't have much direction but I knew pretty much where my legs where taking me, it had been a few years but I still knew the way to the clearing.

I turned a corner and cut across another path and entered my clearing, it was like returning home again. I closed my eyes and breathed in the fresh air. I opened my eyes slowly savouring the picturesque site. I looked at the beautiful blooms sprouting from the trees but then I blinked, something wasn't the same in my clearing. And this would be the 5'11 boy with jet-black hair currently staring at me like an alien.

"What are you doing here?" We say in unison.

"How did you find my clearing?" he says, almost angrily.

"Harry, this is my clearing I've been coming here since I was twelve."

"Then why haven't I seen you here before." In fact I hadn't been here in a year because I'd stopped needing it.

"Harry it doesn't matter, I'll leave."

"No. I don't want you to, it's just you found my secret getaway." We'd been wondering where Harry kept disappearing.

"Okay. Why don't we stay here together?" He shrugged and didn't look at me before he sat down; I took the seat (fallen log) next to him. I was about to ask him something really caring like 'What's troubling you?' or 'is it about Sirius?' but then I remembered the stupid step and stopped myself so instead I said…

"Do you like anyone at the moment?" he blinked at me as though absolutely amazed I'd said this. He thought it over.

"I don't think so… no." I pouted, and batting my eyelashes added,

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Do you?" He didn't sound very interested. I seized the opportunity.

"Yes I do."

"Oh who?"

"I can't tell you that." I say laughing. He shrugs again and I get the sudden urge to nail his shoulders to the wood.

"Okay, don't worry."

"I'll tell you what I'll _hint_ and you can guess."

"Okay." I wish he'd stop saying that!

"So he's really nice." Harry nods at least he looks slightly interested now, "and he um really likes quidditch."

"Every guy you know then," he laughs, "Is he on the quidditch team?"

"Maybe."

"That means yes, what house is he in?"

"Now really Harry I can't tell you that one."

"just do me a favour."

"What?"

"Just rule out Slytherin."

"Done."

"Great how old is he?" he was starting to sound more and more interested, I just hope he liked the real answer.

"He is… younger than all my brothers."

"Is he in your year." I'll have to think about this one.

"No." he smiles like he is all-knowing.

"Cradle snatcher."

"What!"

"If he's not the same age as you he's younger." I'm panicking not only is this going in the completely wrong direction but now Harry thinks I'm into younger guys! I'll have to sort this out but it'll take some serious manipulation.

"If you want to think that Harry you can." I smile mischievously.

"So he's not?"

"Maybe, Maybe not." Harry is seriously confused now.

"I'll take a different approach. What does he look like? Is he blonde?" The image that pops into my head first is Malfoy causing me to say…

"God no!" Harry has a huge smile on his face.

"Brown or black hair then?"

"Well it kind of changes." **(referring to the movie.) **Harry looks nonplussed. "His eyes do that as well." I smile.

"So he has to have bluish-greeny eyes and brown or black hair."

"No Harry. He doesn't have too." He is so stupid I can't believe I fell for a guy who possibly has less brainpower than Ron! Meanwhile Harry's face has adapted a knowing smile.

"Oh wait I remember now." Could it possibly be?

"You do?" My voice sounds apprehensive.

"Yeah on the train… Dean Thomas! It has to be he's the only guy in my year who is younger than Ron… except Neville but you don't like Neville."

"Harry how do you know that he's in Gryffindor?"

"Oh that's obvious when I said 'what house is he in?' you touched your t-shirt where your robes normally say Gryffindor." How the hell did he notice that?

"So I'm right then; it's Dean?" I contemplated telling him the truth but that wouldn't be very subtle. I think it's time to bring out the big guns.

"Harry, you've got it all wrong." His face turned into a frown, "This Guy, he _is _in Gryffindor and yes, he _is _younger than Ron, he's on the quidditch team and he's sitting right next to me." Harry's eyes had rounded on the words 'quidditch team.' I sighed obviously this wasn't going to work.

"Harry?" He hadn't said anything and was still staring straight ahead. But then he looked at me again with sheepish eyes and said:

"Seriously?" so pityingly that I had to escape, escape from it all. I began to laugh and when I begin to laugh, funny or not, I can't stop.

"No stupid" he looks at me dumb struck and then he begins to understand, and he laughs ever so slightly, relief sweeps over me momentarily until he starts to roar with forced laughter. My heart breaks.

"Gin, your such a good actress, you really had me going!"

Yeah I'm a really good actress so much so I was able to lie to myself for years.

Xoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

_Well apart from complete humiliation I think that one could really work. Do you know what? I don't have to get revenge on Ron all I have to do is advise him on Hermione, using this magazine as my guideline of course though._

_Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxo _

**__**

**_If he hasn't yet realised how wonderful you truly are. _**

**_

* * *

_**

**_Guys are all stubborn we know this it's just some guys are more so than others. So he may think he doesn't like you but chances are he's wrong. So try some of these steps to change his mind._**

**_

* * *

_**

**_Step 6:- Joke._**

**_

* * *

_**

**_What does every guy think they are? A comedian so humour them laugh at their jokes it may just pay off. Although we all know that sarcasm is infinitely better than "this guy walks into a bar…" jokes but guys don't get it so tell some jokes and you might just like the punch line._**

**_

* * *

_**

**Keep your eyes out for the clearing it will show up again maybe in this story and perhaps in a few of my other stories winks mysteriously (but not in a weird twitchy way in a way kind of like out of one of those detective movies)**

**Dies of embarrassment**


	6. Step 6

**_Step 6: - Joke. _**

**_

* * *

_**

**_What does every guy think they are? A comedian so humour them laugh at their jokes it may just pay off. Although we all know that sarcasm is infinitely better than "this guy walks into a bar…" jokes but guys don't get it so tell some jokes and you might just like the punch line._**

* * *

_ They honestly think that telling jokes would make a guy fall in love with you! Well I guess I could humour them…_

_

* * *

_

I awoke in my room at – judging by the glaring light shining through my curtains – around ten o'clock. I scolded myself; this would mean that my family would have used all the hot water. Blinking back sleep I topple out of bed and make my way down to the bathroom. I go to open the door when someone steps out and bangs right into me. Needless to say I fall over and am left at this person's feet, they chuckle in a low voice (No, not the feet); I look up. It was Harry.

I smile up at him, but not a sexy smile or a cute smile, a dazed smile. Which causes him to bend over and say:

"You hurt Gin? 'Coz you look kind of spaced out, did you hit your head?"

"Huh?" I really should work on the whole being in love with Harry thing, 'cause honestly if it carries on I'm going to be run down by a hippogriff. The thought of Buckbeak landing on top of me brought me out of my daze. I got up and looked at Harry.

"I'm fine, fine" or as fine as you can be while being totally in love with your brothers best friend, "I just sort of …" started daydreaming about how wonderful you would look at the end of an aisle.

"Well if you're sure you're okay." And he walked off.

I ran into the bathroom, turned it onto full power, and jumped in. The freezing cold water I had dreaded, easing the heat of my face.

I walked down, going over the jokes I had found in my brothers old joke books (Do I even need to say which brothers?) I saw Harry sitting alone at the kitchen table finishing a late breakfast.

Excellent.

"Hey Harry, how's your breakfast?" I ask innocently, sitting next to him.

"Oh fine." He said, looking up and smiling.

"Oh good." I look around, "Heard any good jokes recently?"

"Yeah actually –"

"'Coz I have," I cut across him, "This guy, he walks into a bar." He smiles politely waiting for me to finish, I hesitate, damn those eyes! Oh yeah the joke. "AN IRON

BAR!" I raw. He's looking a bit confused … maybe I should explain.

"You know because he walked into a bar, but it was an iron bar… instead of a actual bar… so it hurt?" He looked at me some more and then managed a small titter.

Well I honestly don't know what's the matter with him; it was an okay joke. Sure it wasn't as funny as sarcasm but hey, what is? Well I'll just have to try harder won't I?

"I've got another one. What do you call a dear with no eyes?"

Harry gave me a pitiful look. "No-Eye-Dear."

"No an… oh you know that one." I say downcast. "Well what do you call a dear with no eyes and no legs?"

He smiled momentarily. "I don't know."

"Still-No-I-Dear!" I shout, just before realising he was humouring me, when I was the one doing the humour…

"Okay what would you get if you gave Crookshanks Pigwidgeon?"

"Shredded Tweet." He said in a bored voice.

"What did the skunk say when the wind changed direction?"

"It's all coming back to me now."

I stood up defiantly and continued. "How do you stop a cockerel crowing on Sunday morning?"

"Have him for dinner Saturday night!" he answered, also standing to meet my gaze.

"Why did the hedgehog cross the road?" I almost screamed getting more and more purple in the face.

"To see his flat mate!"

"Okay then a little verse," I say changing tactics.

"Little owl in the sky

Dropping things from way up high,

Farmer George wipes his eye…"

"Oh thank goodness cows can't fly, you'll have to try harder than that!"

"What's red and white?"

"A frog sandwich. And the thing that's red, white and green is half a frog sandwich!"

"Okay mister smart ass, what do you get if cross an elephant with a ton of baked beans and Brussels sprouts?"

"Out of the way." He said in a mock bored voice.

"Why have giraffes got such big nostrils?"

"I'm not surprised have you seen the size of their fingers?"

"What do you call a cow with no legs?"

"Ground beef." He answered without thinking, his whole face screwed up in concentration, his eyes looking forward.

"What's black and white and red all over?"

"A Dalmatian with sunburn or-" he started because I was about to interrupt. "A penguin." I was unfazed.

"What's small and cuddly and blue?"

"A pygmy puff holding its breath."

"How do you make a tortoise fast?"

"Don't feed it for two months."

"What do you call a fly with no wings?"

"A walk."

"How do you stop a skunk from smelling?"

"Stick to corks up its nose"

"What is the best way of avoiding diseases spread by biting insects?"

"Don't bite any!"

I raised myself up to full height and looked into his eyes and whispered; "What's worse than finding a maggot in your apple."

"Half a maggot." Harry whispered back his face inches from mine, if I hadn't been so mad I would be extremely uncomfortable.

"What would you get if the Death Eaters attacked a field of cows?"

He thought for a moment.

"Udder destruction?" I nod.

"And what do you get if – I mean what goes – umm…"_ I didn't have any more jokes. _

"Ha!" Said Harry triumphantly.

"No wait! What did the girl maggot say to the boy maggot?" he looked around, thinking hard. Then a look of horror appeared on his face.

"I really don't know." He said disbelievingly.

"What's a nice girl like you doing in a joint like this!" I say, triumphant at last.

We look at each other for a moment; we're both sweaty and red in the face.

Then Harry asks me; "Err why's that funny?"

I shake my head "I don't know." I admit. He begins to laugh and then so do I, and we laugh and laugh until we can't stop.

But then it's again Harry's turn to ask me a question; "What was with all the animal jokes?"

"A joke book,"

"Let me guess it was –"

"Fred and George's, yeah."

We talked for a little longer and then Harry said we should see if we could find anyone else. I nodded.

"Wait one more joke;" That was my mistake right there; I could have left it, but no. I had to have the last laugh. "A muggle walks into the three broomsticks, right. He asks for a beer, right. Tom asks what that is… and…and…" I start to laugh hysterically again and couldn't get the rest of the joke out.

"And?" Harry prompts. I calm myself to finish the joke.

"And he says… I can't remember." Harry cocks an eyebrow.

"Why's that funny?"

"It's not – I mean – I can't remember."

_

* * *

He laughs to himself as he leaves. Making me the last laugh. I hate comedy.

* * *

_

**_Step 7: - Talk. _**


	7. Step 7

_**

* * *

** _

**Step 7:- Talk. **

**

* * *

****We know guys don't really 'talk' very much but that's probably just because their mates are around. Get him on his own and try to get him to open up. Perhaps letting him get to know you. **

**

* * *

**

Harry Bloody Potter does not TALK! He hides all his emotions (not very well I might add) and the only way to get through to him is with a beaters bat! And in my experience the use of a beaters bat is more advisable than the whole of this advice column.

* * *

I walked onto the landing feeling glum. I reflected on the new line of advice I now had to follow; Harry Potter, man of mystery himself, certainly had more issues than anyone else I knew, but also as anyone who knows him will tell you, he'd never give in to them. Which is why I looked at the idea of speaking to him as if I was being asked to sooth a wild horse. Maybe it could be done but it sure as hell wasn't going to be easy or pretty. I sighed (it had become a habit of mine) and trudged down the stairs. If only my life was simple, but no, my brother had to befriend the wizarding world's past and future saviour. 

The kitchen was as it always is, Mum at the cooker, Fred and George eating and scheming at the table, the trio no were to be seen. Sitting opposite my brothers I eyed the WWW product they had in front of them warily. I may be their little sister but you know as well as I do that they spare me no mercy (just a little bit more than Ron) with their products. After all we are free testing in their eyes.

"Ginny, good lord what are you doing up so early? Is Voldemort attacking? Should I get Harry?" Only George (and Fred if you count him as a separate being) could joke about stuff like that; but I am talking about the creators of You-No-Poo.

"Ha bloody Ha. And you call yourselves comedians."

"No actually I call myself George and I'm pretty sure I call him Fred most of the time." My expression went stony and I raise an eyebrow threateningly at George. Getting the picture he nudges Fred and they leave me to eat my breakfast in peace.

When I'm half way through my porridge I hear the door swing open, not bothering to turn around I raised my spoon to my lips again.

"Morning Harry dear, there's some porridge on the table if you want some, or I could make you some bacon?" I sniffed; mum hadn't offered me any bacon.

"No that's ok, Mrs Weasley. I was just gonna go outside this morning."

"Oh. With Ron and Hermione, could Ginny come or else she'll just sit in her room?" Die Mum die!

"Erm well I was just going to go and get some fresh air, alone. I don't know where Ron and Hermione are." He sent me a sly wink.

* * *

I walked out to the garden were I knew Harry was sitting, "Harry? Do you feel like talking? I mean you've been through so much last year and…" I trail off hoping that this sad pathetic explanation is enough. He looks up and his eyes narrow 

"No, Ginny." He snaps.

"Oh I mean if you ever feel the need...?" I think that's enough effort; onto the next mortifying step.

"I won't."

"Yeah," oh screw the stupid step he's an idiot, "if its about Sirius Harry, he wouldn't want you to mope, he wouldn't want you to disappear for hours, he wouldn't want you to push us all away, and he wouldn't want you to be rude to people who are only trying to help!" well maybe I wanted to do more than help him but that wasn't the point.

"It's got nothing to do with Sirius, Ginny! And even if it was you can't tell me anything, anything about how to grieve!"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" I say dangerously.

"You've never lost anyone. Have you?" he's out right shouting. Air caught in my lungs and anger completely foreshadows that stupid step.

"And how would you know that? Have you ever took the time to ask... do you even... you don't know me!"

"I know you well enough to know you have no right to act like you know what I'm going through." he states with what I could have sworn was arrogance. "So have you, have you lost someone as close to you as Sirius was to me?" Now that was arrogance, he obviously thought I was some silly little nosy girl.

"Harry I'm not gonna stand here and let you talk to me like this." I say, turning to leave.

"I knew it." He sneers.

I spin around and in my anger pull out my wand, Harry eyes it apprehensively and his hand brushes his pocket though he withdraws no wand, I dropped my hand and give him a pitying look and making to leave again, I knew his comment was merely a jest.

But as I was walking away I breathed deeply and said: "My Uncle Bilius."

"What?"

"When I was eight. The twins had gone to Hogwarts... it was just Ron and me at home... I loved him as much as I loved Dad or Mum... we all did really... but he used to say I was his favourite... just to me." I turned to face him; regretfully feeling a tear fall down my cheek.

Harry's expression and mannerisms had changed completely. His hand was outstretched to me, his face looked regretful.

"I didn't know..."

"Course you didn't," I said bracingly "How could you have? Ron wouldn't have told you and it happened before we knew you. But still, you had no right to say that I don't know what I'm talking about. I don't make a habit of talking about stuff I don't understand."

I turn to leave again, knowing that this would probably be a perfect opportunity to start intense conversation but not caring in the slightest.

"Gin... it wasn't Sirius."

"What?" I stopped and turned around again. He'd been out here for hours of course it was to do with Sirius what else could keep him away from Ron and Hermione? Unless it was... "Voldemort. Oh Harry sorry. I didn't think."

"No. Well yeah partly but no not entirely. What I was really thinking about Ginny was..." He walked forward until he was closer to me than I could ever remember him being. I took a breath.

"Ginny! Harry! How long have you been out there? Its nearly time for lunch. Come on inside and get some jackets." Harry's face turns away from mine and towards the sound of my mother's voice.

"Yeah Mrs Weasley. We're coming." And with that he gestures for me to follow him inside. When we walk through to the kitchen he's hailed by Ron and Hermione. I'd no chance from then on.

* * *

Now that is absolute proof that that step doesn't work; that really happened. He's been moping all bloody holiday - like I wouldn't say anything. **Step 8: - Get a new look**


	8. Step 8

_I have to clarify a bit. In this chapter Ginny's conscious self will drop in to give her opinion in places, it makes it easier to get across that isn't Ginny that its only her imagination but still can you tell me whether it works because I'm just trying it out. __**

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Hermione Ron or Ginny neither do I own the right to use them on a first term basis I do however own my brain which came up with Colette Jones, Scarlet and the Flying Pig. **__**

* * *

Step 8: - Get a new look **_

_**Maybe you're plain and simple or maybe you're retroshique meets muggle styles, whatever your look, go for gold! Wear some new outfits, change your style make It more… BOLD! **_

_**

* * *

If I were going to do this one –which I wouldn't-- I'd have to enlist the help of Tonks who quite frankly has the world's biggest wardrobe. **_

* * *

I think there's something wrong with my mirror, or else something wrong with my head. I've never before looked in a mirror and wished I were looking at somebody else. Sure I'd looked at parts of my body and wished they'd change; like my trademark Weasley red hair. But not like this… this was deeper. I'd gotten dressed and looked at myself and just stared. 

My hair was its usual self deadly straight and red. My face was still covered in freckles, and my body was just as it was everyday. But there was something else about my appearance that disheartened me. I suppose the styled block colours (trademark of nineties fashion) didn't really do much for my complexion. But what was I thinking? This was favourite outfit. My white Capri's and my salmon pink shirt and matching flip-flops. I'd looked at myself a million times in this outfit and now I felt dejected at the sight of it.

* * *

See! Now this magazine is saying this is healthy. Just the thought of the step has made imaginary me totally question her confidence!

* * *

There was a knock at the door. 

"Come in," I sighed.

"Now that doesn't sound like the Ginny I know, the Ginny I know is much more bubbly. What's up?" Tonks' reflection looked back at me next to my own. I took my time to answer.

"Nothing." She raises a perfect eyebrow at my back. "Well actually," I start, changing my tone completely "I've been thinking…" I pause for her shock horror response "I could do with a new look." I turn away from the mirror, my smile a little too forced for my liking.

Tonks looked slightly surprised, her mouth in a perfect line, thinking. Its strange, I realise now, that I no longer feel the need to take Tonks in; she changes so much I don't bother. I bother now; her hair is peroxide blonde, her skin slightly tanned and she's dressed in clothes that I know I would look ridiculous in.

* * *

Ok that isn't Tonks that's Gwen Steffani (what you think a muggle has that good a style oh you should have heard her doing the backing on the weird sisters new song!) but I haven't seen Tonks in a while and I wanted to revamp her.

* * *

"What's wrong with your look?" she said, finally. 

"I just think I need something new. And if, say that look doesn't work I could do something else," I could hear the carefree nature of my voice ebbing away. "What I need is someone with a extended wardrobe." I think by the way her eyebrows disappeared behind her fringe that she got the hint.

"Oh," her voice was a little too carefree and her hand strayed to her hair, "you wouldn't read Teen Witch Weekly by any chance would you?" My eyes widened.

"What!" she knew, "err I may flick through it occasionally, Hermione reads it more than I do real…" I trailed off at the look she was giving me "yeah, yeah I do."

"I see, and would have read that article about how to get a guy? And, I'll take that fleeted look as a yes, would this guy be the infamous Harry Potter?" I nod dispiritedly. "Right. Well I'm here to tell you that that supposed 'article' was written by an old dorm mate of mine miss Colette Jones. Who, from what I gather from a lot of conversations with Hermione is about the equivalent of Lavender Brown, now would you trust Lavender Brown with your love life?" How can I argue with that? I don't even know why I'm doing this. I shrugged.

"It's worth a try." I offer half-heartedly.

"Ginny there is nothing wrong with the way you look, and honestly I thought you were beyond trying to change yourself to get a guy to like you."

"You can talk! Tonks the only time you look like yourself is when you're near you're mother!"

She sighed, and after that she resigned to help me, though she explained that when this plan fell to pieces she would show me what she truly looked like and why she changed so often.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" I asked her after a long time.

"I didn't say it was going to work. I just said you looked amazing."

Well I did want different and this definitely was the deep end of different. My hair was still straight but was interestingly streaked with black, I had an oversized bikers leather jacket on and underneath that a top that actually looked like an extended bra and didn't even reach my belly button. And then I had a pair of very tight fitting black Capri trousers on which were actually mine so that wasn't too bad. The thing I was having the most trouble with was not the clothes - no matter how revealing - it was actually the make-up Tonks had insisted on me wearing. ("If your really going to do this you've got to do it right.")

Now it wasn't like Marilyn Manson (again you think he's normal enough to be muggle?) it was subtler but this was me; I never wore make-up. And now here I was at the top of the garden with generous amounts of black eyeliner and red lipstick the colour of my hair. I had to admit though; I did look good.

* * *

Self esteem at last.

* * *

But this was only the first part I still had to find Harry. 

And there he was, up in the air as he always was when he wasn't moping, weirdly though my brother was nowhere to be seen. I walked and summing up all the courage I could muster I called out to him. Now I thought that maybe I should adapt a new attitude to go with my new look, which would explain… "Hey Potter!"

Harry stopped in midair not looking at me, apparently he recognised my voice because otherwise he would never have said: "Ginny, since when have I been Potter?" He turned around a cheeky smile on his face. At the sight of me his eyes widened and his hand slipped off his broom. Harry glided down to where I was standing the breath caught in my throat.

"You look… different," Harry managed to get out whilst taking in my new look. "What you… what you did to your hair…" he gestures.

"Yeah, you like it?" I ask hopefully.

"Well yeah! But it's not permanent is it?" I'll take that as a 'very well hidden' no. I give him a stony glare and raise an eyebrow. "I don't mean that! I mean – its just – I prefer your hair like it was. I really liked your hair the way it was."

* * *

it's true he does like my hair.

* * *

"Okay… err well do you like the rest of my outfit?" I prompt. His eyes rest on my exposed stomach. 

"Yeah, but why?" he sounded genuinely nonplussed.

"Oh I just felt I needed a change."

"Really?" I was surprised at how – well – surprised he sounded. "I mean you didn't seem to me to have anything wrong with you… at all. Are you sure you 'just fancied a change'"

"Ginevra Molly Weasley! What are you wearing?" By the tone of his voice I half expected to see mum rounding the corner, but no it was Ron with Hermione just behind him.

"Ron, you don't have to middle name me it's only a look I'm trying out." I laughed.

"I'm really serious," he said his ears going red with emotion "Cover yourself!" he said removing his jumper and wrapping it around my middle.

"You Ronald Bilius Weasley better be joking." He shook his head in an infuriating way and his hands went to his sides. "I am allowed to dress however I like I'll have you know."

Ron sucked in air like a vacuum, "not in front of Harry you're not."

Before I knew what I was doing my wand was in my hand. Blood was pounding in my ears and the whole world went dark. All I could comprehend was my anger at Ron and how I was going to get back at him.

"Ginny? Ginny! Your underage you can't…"

"I can do whatever I bloody well want to, Hermione. Ron should know that he can't talk to me like I'm some scarlet woman off the street." I said deadly quite, still not looking at Ron.

"You decided to dress like one for some reason."

That was it. I let out a howl of anger, dropped my wand and pounced at Ron. Between fleeting glimpses of my own fist and Ron's slightly fearful face I felt rather masculine arms surround me and pull me towards the house.

* * *

"Tonks… please?" 

"No, no, no. You are on your own from now on. Ron was enough… but when he got your mother…" she shuddered, "Listen Gin by all means use my wardrobe and make-up but don't directly involve me."

"Fine, she really laid into you didn't she?"

"Yeah, kept going on about infecting your young mind and stuff and when I told her I was only six years older anyway she went mental, but we'll get your brother back for it." She added with an evil smile.

"Cool. So what looks next?"

"No, I told you I'm out. But Ginny if it didn't work this time what makes you think it's going to work next time?"

I ignored her and continued my epic search through her wardrobe.

"This! This is perfect."

Tonks said nothing but raised an eyebrow at the outfit in my hand.

* * *

Just as I was putting the finishing touches to my hair (I had scrunched it up into three big curls in a clip at the back of my head,) Hermione walked in the door. Her mouth fell open and her eyebrows raised themselves beyond her hairline. 

"What, don't you like it?"

"You look amazing Ginny but how – how are you going to pull that off?" She asked still taking in the black satin of my halter neck dress.

"Simple, in an hour we're going out to dinner," I shrug, and turn back to the mirror to apply lip-gloss.

"But you're going to look so out of place I'm just going to wear this," referring to the jeans and t-shirt she was wearing. "I know Harry and Ron are slow but there bound to notice if you turn up all dressed up and nobody else does."

I turn to face her again an evil glint that I know she'll recognise in my eyes. "Well… yeah but, if say, someone else was dressed up then I wouldn't look so stupid.

* * *

What? If I have to be evil to myself then I'm going to be evil to Hermione to…

* * *

"-Oh no… no, no, no. No way." Said Hermione shaking her head and hands in protest. 

"But 'Mione," I start in a mock pleading voice as I moved over to the wardrobe "Wouldn't you want to wear this?" I chuck the light blue dress at her and go to put my black kitten heels on.

**

* * *

I stumble slightly as I walk into the front yard; the place we had designated to meet at. It seemed as though Harry, Ron and my parents had been waiting a while because they were all seated on the grass comfortably. It wasn't my fault Hermione couldn't apply eyeliner. **

As Hermione and I stepped into view Ron and Harry's mouths fell open, I knew Hermione looked good but Ron was practically drooling. I think Harry was impressed too because he still hadn't shut his mouth.

"Are we going? Its just we should get a move on." Dad spoke up and leaning forward so only I could hear, "you look lovely, darling."

'The Flying Pig.' I hated that name so much. It wasn't the staff or the food or anything remotely related to the actual restaurant really. It had everything to do with a particular unwanted memory.

* * *

Warning: Flashbacks in daydreams are weird 

Scarlet sat on the opposite bed from mine in our dormitory. We were only in our second year and both in 'love' with a certain Harry Potter. We'd been talking for at least an hour about the miseries and pains of unrequited love. I had to say, up until she told me that she liked Harry as well, I'd never trusted her. But as I said, that all changed.

"I don't know which one of us has it worst really me because he knows me and doesn't care or you who he doesn't even know." I state after hearing a funny anecdote about how she asked him to get a book for her of a shelf in the library and after he'd picked the book without looking at her she'd sat down and had to read a book about the properties of the philosophers stone. A book she said had been so dusty she could have sworn it hadn't been read in years. (I of course realised that that book would have been perfect for the trio two years ago.)

"Oh its definitely me. You try reading about some bloke called Flamel while your worrying about looking stupid putting a book back which you assured him you 'really needed'." She laughed.

"No, what I mean is you don't know if he'll ever like you, but me, well I already know he doesn't."

"I suppose." She said quietly, which honestly took me by surprise, as had I been in her position I would have reassured myself.

"Yeah, the day Harry Potter likes me as more than a friend is the day—"

"The day pigs fly." She laughed.

* * *

It took me so long to understand that Scarlet was just a bitch but I got there in the end. But well anyway it didn't stand good steed for the evening, as we would be eating in The Flying Pig of all places. I sigh as I enter for some reason half expecting Scarlet to jump out and laugh at my pathetic attempt to get Harry to like me.

"How come you look so nervous, Gin?"

"I don't." I reply changing my expression completely unfortunately Harry wasn't convinced.

"Yeah you did, you looked like Voldermort was about to jump out at you." I admire the way he can joke about stuff like that now; and sometimes I really envy him for it. I touched my hair and realised I needed to go to the toilet and was about to excuse myself like I normally do when I realised it wasn't very conservative of me, so I just began to walk to the toilet (it was marked with a signpost shaped like a pig)

Well that would have been the plan hadn't my loving brother called out loudly "Hey Gin where you going?" for the whole restaurant to hear.

"Somewhere," I said harshly and turning back to the toilet.

"Where's somewhere?" Shouted, this time, Harry a funny look in his eyes. By this point everyone in the restaurant was looking at me, intrigued.

"The toilet," I whisper deadly; my face burning like the day I sent Harry that Valentine.

I will never let myself live that act of childish stupidity down.

* * *

Half of the restaurant roared with laughter, my family and Harry included, Hermione on the other hand gave me a pitying look. I walk the final steps to the toilet, to salvation.

* * *

I look into the mirror after washing my hands and can't believe what I look like: my hair, which had been separated into loose curls was even now straitening out, my eye-make up which I had spent hours trying to get to match the emerald necklace mum had lent me was smudged, and my lip gloss was non-existent except for a small trace of red. In short I looked nothing like I had in my bedroom. Harry must think me a mess.

* * *

It's called looking interesting and if Harry was thinking that he's got his priorities distinctly messed up. Save the world or worry about how Ginny looks, save the world or worry about how Ginny looks, save the world or worry about how Ginny looks? Real conundrum there. .

* * *

I walk back to the table and feel my face flush as everyone stares at me humorously. I take the seat next to Harry; who does not for your information pull the chair out for me. I try to ignore the soft blister starting up on my ankle from my heels. 

A very good-looking teenage waiter comes over to take our orders, everyone orders their meals finishing with Hermione who, apparently rather taken with this waiter, giggles and says "the chicken burger with you on the side," Everyone at the table stares at her, "I mean a side order of chips. I didn't mean—" she looks paralysed with embarrassment and goes a deep shade of red but not nearly as red as Ron who looks ready to knock good-looking-hazel-eyed waiter straight out, he suits himself by getting up to go to the bathroom and banging good-looking-hazel-eyed waiter into a pot plant.

Hermione shrieks "Oh I'm so sorry I don't know what his problem is," This is all to much for me and Harry who both burst into laughter causing Hermione to give us an odd look and ask "What?"

"Nothing," I assure her, Harry winks at me discreetly, and I feel my stomach flutter.

Good-looking-hazel-eyed waiter turns and waits for me to make my order. Not being graced with the opportunity to look at the menu I automatically ask for the most conservative dish I can think of.

"I'll have the salmon thank you," I say in my prissiest voice. Good-looking-hazel-eyed waiter looks at me oddly and says

"Err sorry we don't supply salmon but we do have a lovely bottle of chardonnay in the back room, we were going to save it for the queen but what the heck." I glare at him and mutter

"I'll have the chicken salad."

"Excellent choice madam." Snide-and sarcastic-good-looking-hazel-eyed-waiter bowed to me and left with a flourish. I turn back to everyone and find them giving me very odd looks. What? Just because the last time I ate salmon I had an allergic reaction does that not mean I can't order it. Overall I do not think tonight is going very well.

"I'm gonna go find Ron," I declared,

"I'll go with you!" Harry cried.

I shot him an odd look but don't query into his behaviour.

* * *

Because of course I have no freedom of speech.

* * *

We walked in silence towards the toilets were we supposed Ron must be. Harry walked freely past the sign reading "Men" and I drew back. I jump as I hear Harry's voice - slightly muffled - ring out: 

"Ah come on Ron; what's the matter?" he was clearly enjoying himself immensely.

"You know exactly what's wrong with me, Harry, Hermione looking at that waiter like she can't get enough of him."

"Err Ron—"

"No Harry! I've had enough, he's probably gonna ask her out and then I'll have lost my chance!"

"Yeah but its just—"

"How can I have been this stupid?"

"I dunno but—"

"I've finally realised that I like her and then—"

"Ginny's outside!" Harry shouted. There was a ricocheting silence and then and Ron's face appeared at the door, looked at me for a second and then disappeared again.

"Why didn't you tell me?" said Ron in anguish.

"I tried!" replied Harry indignantly "She's heard now, come back to the table."

"Fine," Said Ron begrudgingly "but how about Ginny knowing that you—"

"ALL RIGHT! ALL RIGHT!"

* * *

Ron's been threatening Harry with something like that for weeks.

* * *

They appeared again: Ron looking smug and Harry avoiding my eye. My curiosity peaked. 

As we got back to the table I noticed that Hermione still looked a bit dazed by her encounter with good-looking-hazel-eyed-waiter, so I poked her.

"Enjoying that outfit now, huh Hermione?"

She looked horrified, "Oh no you don't think he only likes me because of the way I look do you?"

"Oh no Hermione I'm sure he understands your character brilliantly after asking you for your order."

Hermione – thank goodness I was starting to think I'd lost her – rolled her eyes and shoved me hard. I of course didn't give up there.

"But I thought Hermione that you wanted to impress someone else," I give her a significant look and she blushes taking a sip of her drink.

Her hand shoots to her hair as good-looking-hazel-eyed-waiter returns with her and my parent's food. He smiles back as he makes a show of changing her napkin because 'its crumpled.'

I hear Harry mutter in Ron's ear "if you kill him now, mate, he'll never bring us our food." And I chuckle to myself. But I don't seem to be the only one who heard Harry; because good-looking-hazel-eyed-waiter gives Ron a smug smile and swaggers off only to return moments later bearing, as promised, Harry and Ron's meals. And with the art of someone either extremely practiced or extremely clumsy sort of threw Ron's plate of spaghetti at Ron unfortunately for myself at the angle it hit Ron lots of it splattered on me. I screamed as Ron yelped angrily.

* * *

Come on this wouldn't be a 15 Easy Steps moment without the horrific embarrassment; you think I'd let myself go this entire step without spilling something on myself.

* * *

The waiters insincere apologies followed me all the way to the bathroom where I stood staring at my reflection in the mirror. My red curls were donned with spaghetti so was my face and worst of all was the fact that Tonks' beautiful black satin dress was covered in it. I dejectedly fell to the floor. 

"Get up Ginny; muggles don't clean with magic." A ray of hope had shined its head.

"Magic! Mum you can fix this can't you?"

Mum looks at me pityingly "I can get rid of the sauce Ginny but all the muggles in the restaurant just saw what happened to you, you can't just go back in looking like nothing happened," she raised her wand and instantly I feel the sauce lift off me taking with it the remnants of my make-up; looking in the mirror my hair doesn't look as silky as before but it still looks ok I turn back to face her and she points her wand at me before I can even question her she squirts water down my front and onto my hair. It is safe to say that I now look like a drowned rat.

I returned to the table stiffly now limping because of the blister rubbing on my ankle. I observed the table and noticed that Harry was missing I look around and catch a glimpse of familiar messy black hair. There in the corner is our waiter being shouted at to good measure by who I must presume is the manager, but surprisingly observing it all with his hands crossed in a intimidating way is Harry. I smile despite myself as I sit back down. Hermione too is watching the little exchange in the corner but she looks more worried than I do.

"Oh I do hope he doesn't get into trouble; or fired! You don't think they'll fire him do you Ginny it was only an accident."

I turn my, still wet, head to her "I'm sure it was only an accident." Yeah if he accidentally managed to hit Ron and miss Hermione who he was closer too,

"His name's John look," she showed me the napkin he'd given her, it was branded with his name and a number, and giggled in what I could have sworn was a very good impression of Lavender Brown.

"What's with the number?" I asked confused. "is it like a serial number?"

"No. You should really start paying more attention to your father. It's a telephone number." She stretched out the word 'telephone' like it would cause a dawning comprehension on my part.

"And what's a telephone?"

"Its like floo 'cept you can only hear someone not see them." Came Ron's voice.

* * *

Only in my head could Ron beat Hermione to an explanation and live to tell the tale.

* * *

I turn to Ron, who is looking a lot worse for ware as I suppose do I, but the thing that seems to be getting to him most of all, more than even the damp patches on his top, are the anxiously flirtatious looks being shot between Hermione and this waiter. 

'Clumsy'-snide-and-sarcastic-good-looking-hazel-eyed waiter comes over and apologises insincerely to Ron and myself and leaves us to our meal.

* * *

Third times a charm, that's what they used to say. When you fall down the first two times the third times lucky, right? I sure do hope so. I look at myself in my expanded mirror and almost laugh – have I learnt nothing? My hair is bubble gum pink and has been bewitched – with Tonks' wand not mine – to give the elusion that it is in fact cut short at the back and long at the front, I'd say quite a cool colour and cute on anyone but myself as it only manages to make my face increasingly round and my complexion more red than pale, and being pale – excessive amounts of white eye make-up and rosy pink ("to match my hair,") lipstick isn't gonna quite cut it, is it now? 

And my outfit? I'm wearing an oversized stripy black and white jumper, which succeeds in making me looking like a prisoner of askaban with white leggings (n'uf said.)

I'm not going out like this.

I may seem stupid but I'm not no matter what that step says it would just be idiotic to go out dressed like this.

Then came the knock on the door.

* * *

Okay, so I'm evil, but its funny. Go on guess who's at the door…

* * *

"Ginny?" a familiar but muffled voice enquires outside; their hand already turning the handle, "Ginny are you in there?" 

"Yes." I answer; apparently this person takes this as an invitation to come in because by any means the door opens to reveal Harry.

"Your mum says…" his eyes widen, "your mum says…" he looks out the window "that dinners ready."

I shut my eyes in horror and when I open my eyes I find Harry, still there, staring at me in an almost unreadable way, as if he was confused and amused at the same time.

"Its okay, you can laugh." His face instantly cracks a smile and he leans back against the door frame, in a admittedly adorable way.

"I don't want to laugh," he says simply. I decide to play my horror as humour.

"Can I offer you a subsequent package? A chuckle perhaps or a titter?"

He smiles again and looks me directly in the eye, "Why though?"

"Why pink? I know, I have no idea, I think I was trying to go light but staying clear of orange and blonde…" he gives me a look and I trail off.

"No, why do all this. Why try and change yourself? Why all of a sudden."

"I'm not, it's just a new look." I suddenly become very defensive "and if you wouldn't mind leaving I would like to get changed." I give him a cold stare, and he gets up, looking slightly hurt.

But as he leaves he says "For the record, there's nothing wrong with who you are or for that matter how you look."

And I suppose he was right.

* * *

Too right he was right, if there were something wrong with me I wouldn't seek the advice of teen witch weekly!

* * *

**Step 9: - Be Subtle**

**That may just be the longest chapter so far! I dunno I just thought what the heck and ran with it, hmm not so sure how I feel about this chapter… really glad that that whole slums over – with the horrifically unfunny chapters – but I think this stories actually come out the other side of funny and I have little explanation both ways – Ginny's imagination is getting a little more day dream than anything now – and I'll be using that to great effect, and also the chapters I'm writing now are far less slapstick and more well I dunno but if you don't like it let me know and I'll see what I can do for you. Or am I being crazy and picky? Let me know anyway… review! **

**Love among the coconuts – **


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